into your arms i will fall
by sparkling skies
Summary: Oneshot. "It was true--he didn't treat me right. But he did care; we all knew that. They both did. That was the problem."


i planned on it being happy. except, you know, it's really not. i liked writing it, though, if that makes up for anything. also, i couldn't for the life of me remember cam's brother's name. i hope i got it right, or else i just feel stupid.  
oh, and i'd appreciate it very much if you reviewed. just sayin'.

* * *

**~ into your arms i will fall ~  
**a one shot

"_Can I come?"_

I remember the first time I met him. Really met him.

I was in the library. I was always in the library; it was the only room in school that I felt comfortable in. Empty most of the time, quiet. I wasn't very fond of people. I wasn't scared of them and they didn't irritate me. I just was quiet, a tad shy. I would honestly rather be on my own than have to try to navigate my classmates' conversations.

He was very much the opposite. He was _that guy._ The one that practically everyone in school knew. I knew him. Actually, I liked him. He was an attention hog, and he'd tease and flirt like no other, but he was _nice._ So painstakingly nice, in fact, that it was hard to be around him sometimes. He played sports and was popular and, I'll admit, not hard on the eyes, and it made me upset that he could be so great.

That's why, when I signed in one day, I almost wasn't even surprised to find him sitting in my chair. He read too? Not hard to believe. He did everything, but it was still rare that he ever ventured into this room. Ventured into my chair.

You see, I had this specific chair in the corner. It was by the windows that ran the walls and it was the only seat there, somewhat hidden from the rest of the library. I loved that spot. It made me feel like I was outside; when it rained I would watch the water trickle down the glass and wish that I could just leave. I wanted to press myself against the glass and melt through it and into the rain. It didn't even make sense, not in the least, how could you melt into rain?, but I wanted to. Rain made me feel something, for whatever reason.

It was raining that day. Dark, scary rain. The kind with thunder and lightning; that charged the air. And he was sitting in my chair, slouched, head down. I thought he was sleeping. I moved on to the chair over. It was only a few feet away and the windows continued down where I could look outside still. I glanced behind me, wondering why he was in the library—was anyone else in here?—and settled lightly in the seat. I pulled my legs up, sliding my book out of my purse.

I was distracted though; it was hard to read that day.

My gaze alternated between the windows and him. His silhouette was amazing. He was a dark figure against a dark background. It made me think of those really pretty pictures that photographers take: Where the person is standing on a cliff near the ocean as a storm rages around them. You know how they're just breathtaking, no matter that you couldn't see the details of the person, and the background made you shiver from its darkness. It was just one of those things, and I couldn't help but stare.

After a few moments, I twisted back around to look out my own window. I was able to read for awhile, an exciting book that freaked me out a little. I was at a point where the character had fallen asleep, and she was having this creepy nightmare, when lightning flashed, a large clap of thunder roared and the lights went out. Startled, I straightened in my seat and looked around me. It was dark and, like I said, I was slightly freaked out.

When I turned though, I can honestly say that I had never been so surprised. I had forgotten that he was there, and at the exact moment that I had looked over at him, his eyes flashed almost as brightly as the lightning. His grin flashed too.

"There you are," he said.

Let me tell you, at that moment he looked very dangerous. And I later learned that he was, but not in the way that you're probably thinking.

I blinked back at him and closed my book, marking my page. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. I told you he was nice, but we had never been friends.

He wrinkled his nose in an adorable way and his tan arms flexed as he pulled himself from his slouched position. "Why are you over there?" he asked lightly, giving me a puzzled look. He gestured to himself. "I'm in your seat, right? Don't you always sit here?"

Still confused on why he was here, addressing me, I merely nodded.

The sides of his mouth pulled up. "Aren't you upset that I'm taking your spot?"

"Why would I be upset?" I asked him, frowning into the darkness. It was hard to see, yet I was somehow able to focus on his features. The storm brought them to life. He was something wild. I could see it. I could feel it.

He laughed lightly and shook his head. "No reason," he told me. I glanced behind him at the storm. Why hadn't anyone come to see if we were okay? Or turned the lights back on? Something. I loved storms, but being in the dark in the storm was different. I don't know how, but it was. I wasn't even scared to be outside in the dark during a storm. There's just something different about rooms. Or maybe I was just thinking of the book. Either way, I was nervous.

"You were sleeping." It was a total facepalm moment; I don't know why I said it.

He rolled his shoulders. "Yeah," he said, "it's quiet in here." He paused for a moment. I watched him warily. "Why is it so dark?"

I couldn't help it. I smiled. "It's storming. Lights went out." I bit my lip. "Why were you in here?"

He had been watching the window, but he slowly turned his head to look at me. "You mean, why am I in your seat?"

I nodded. I wondered how he knew I always sat there.

He tilted his head slightly and cast his eyes back toward the storm. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I just kind of like it in here."

**~:::~**

"_Can I come?"_

I twisted around. I knew it was him. I knew his voice by heart. I still had to act surprised though. It didn't matter that I'd seen him coming after me multiple times already. I was avoiding him.

"Cam! Hey."

I wrapped my arms around myself. His face was closed off when I looked up at him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared behind me, at his older brother. Harris stood looking determined. He looked like he would stand up for me if I needed him. Cam looked like he wanted to murder him.

"What are you guys doing?" Cam asked.

I studied the square jaw and sharp, high cheekbones of his dark face. Black hair fell into mismatched eyes. He looked so upset. A mixture between utterly sad and mad. He looked determined too. He looked like he would stand up for me if I needed him too. Hadn't he always?

I brushed my bangs behind my ear, but they just fell forward again. I tried to give him a casual shrug, but my shoulders were tense enough that you could tell I was far from relaxed. Having the brothers together; this flustered me. I couldn't deal with them both at once. "Oh, we were just going to head out." The wind blew my hair around and I tugged at it, annoyed. His hand brushed it carefully when he tucked it behind my ears, like I had done just seconds before. He did it without thinking. It stayed for him. "It's getting late," I said.

Harris took a step toward me. He was looking at Cam with authority. My cheeks tinted pink and I hoped that the darkness was covering it. I let out a soft sigh.

"You're right," Cam said. "Did you drive here?" He reached for my hand. I quickly snatched it back before he could touch me.

"No," I whispered. He knew who I came with.

He averted his eyes and instead reached back into his pocket. "You can go back to the party," he told Harris quietly. "I can take her home."

Harris spoke for the first time. "That's okay. I got it."

Cam's eyes narrowed and he glanced down at me. I felt the tension between the boys grow and I shrunk into myself. I couldn't do this.

I just couldn't.

**~:::~**

Cam and I were friends now. He had started coming to the library every day, since that first. For the first week, it stormed, and the lights flickered on and off repeatedly. On the first day, somehow he could tell the storm had freaked me out, and had told me to scoot my chair over next to him. It was my spot, he had said, I had every right. The rest of the week I sat in my chair, and he pulled the other close to me. After that it just became habit, and the librarians started leaving it there, instead of moving it back to its original spot.

The librarians absolutely loved him. He was so charming. He'd stroll into the doors, and compliment each of them about something. They'd tell him that he was a devil when he turned his grins their way. They appreciated his good looks, I was sure.

I appreciated everything else. He was sweet, polite, playful. He was smart and he did read and sometimes we talked about books. Mostly we talked about classes and what we wanted to do with our futures and our families. He looked up to his older like no one I had ever seen. They were very close, I learned. Harris Fisher had graduated a couple of years ago, so I didn't know him well, but Cam was good at descriptions.

"You should meet him," he told me excitedly. "He's taking a semester off classes. He'll be here for summer too." I smiled encouragingly at him. Cam's eyes lit up when he talked about his older brother. I liked when they lit up.

I poked him playfully in the side. "I'll still have time for you though, right? You aren't gonna shove me at your brother are you?"

He flashed me a wicked grin. "Nah. You're mine this summer." It was hard to believe he'd say something like that. Just a few weeks ago, I only saw him in the halls. Now we were spending summer together; I was meeting his brother. "We'll just do all sorts of evil things to him together."

I stood up quickly. "Cameron Fisher, are you suggesting that I'd willingly do evil things to someone?" I glared down at him, looking fake stern.

He stood too and stepped toward me. I leaned back against a bookshelf, smiling, letting him know I was kidding, but he kept coming closer. Finally he was just inches away. He quickly glanced around us to make sure no one was around before whispering, "I'm not suggesting anything about you. I am suggesting, however, that_ I love_ doing evil things."

Before I could comprehend his words, he touched his lips to mine.

It took only a moment before I kissed him back. I wasn't slow around Cam.

It's kind of funny, when I think about it, how neither of us thought to move away from one another. Surely someone would find us. Cam wasn't ashamed for the students to see us together, but I'm sure he would be if a teacher did. But we didn't stop. Instead, I urged him farther.

I reached up and twined my fingers into his hair. It was soft and silky, just the right length to run fingers through. He slid his hands up and down my sides, before settling them on my hips. He pulled us closer. I could smell his shampoo, mixed with the scent of his skin; grass from soccer and softener from his clothes and the sweetness that was just him.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I mumbled between kisses. I ran my hands down his chest.

He made a noise deep in his throat and his grip tightened. But it just as quickly loosened, and he let me go, stepping away. His cheeks were flushed and his hair messy where I'd touched it. "You're right. I should probably go." But he was grinning at me, and we both knew that I wouldn't let him.

I grabbed his arm and tugged him back over to me, pressing my mouth back to his urgently. "Not evil my ass," he muttered. I felt his smile as he kissed me. I could only give a breathy laugh in response.

**~:::~**

"You know what," I mumbled to the ground, "I can ask Claire to take me. Don't worry about it." I licked my lips, not meeting any eyes, and tried to move away.

"Massie, you know I can take you. Don't bother Claire." I peeked over at Cam and he gave me a look I couldn't quite read. I ducked my head, trying to ignore both of them.

"Really. Look, she's leaving anyway. You guys have fun."

**~:::~**

We didn't kiss anymore, but only because Cam's famous older brother was coming home early. Cam was so consumed with Harris that we didn't have time to sneak in stuff like making out.

I met him the day he got in town, which wasn't what I had planned. But Cam wanted me to meet him. He was like my puppy, practically pouncing on me he was so excited for me to see him.

I don't know why. It only ruined things when I met Harris.

But we didn't know that then.

I rode home with Cam; he was going to drive me back to pick up my car later. We pulled into the driveway and I had to do a double take. They could be twins, that's how close the Fisher brothers looked. I soon learned though that it was their personalities that were polar opposites. Cam was always cheerful, comfortable, lovable.

Harris, on the other hand, was moody, full of himself, but, also, lovable. When Harris smiled, the world froze and you were consumed with happiness. You had to earn smiles, but when you did you didn't mind having to do all the work beforehand.

It didn't take me long to see their relationship. They were close. They loved each other. You could tell by the way Cam told Harris about everything in his life, and the way Harris listened like there was no one else in the room. From what I could tell, Cam looked up to Harris and Harris looked out for Cam.

Eventually Cam mumbled something about being tired and before I knew it, he was passed out on the couch sleeping. I had to awkwardly ask if Harris could give me a ride to my car, but he only chuckled at his brother's drooling mouth. "Sure," he said, "you deserve a medal for putting up with him. The least I can give is a ride."

He smiled at me. I think that's when I started falling for him.

**~:::~**

The brothers adopted me into their life. And I loved that they did. I loved spending time with them. They were everything, both of them, for a long time.

But then Harris and I became complicated.

Each time I would get him to open up to me, something that I worked hard at, he'd soon get snappy. He would share a secret with me, but then he'd say nothing for a week. He'd smile and then he'd leave.

He always left me wanting. He would never give. Not really.

With Harris and I difficult, Cam and I became complicated as well. I knew he still felt stuff for me. It wasn't hard to tell. It broke my heart, that Cam, perfect amazing Cam, had to fight for my attention. I didn't mean for it to happen, but Me And Harris—we were just different than Me And Cam. I started liking Harris in a different way than Cam.

I could count on Harris breaking my heart, because he did it over and over.

I could count on Cam to fix it, because he it did over and over.

I could count on Harris throwing my attention to the side.

I could count on Cam fighting for it.

They were both fast, intense. Cam had wanted to share me with the ones he loved, Harris didn't want me, but he didn't want to share me either. They both drove me insane. They both had my love.

But they expected me to choose. I could tell. And it was selfish not to, but I didn't want to give up one boy. I wanted them both.

**~:::~**

"Claire already left, Massie." Cam gave me a hard look. He wouldn't let me run from the situation. He was the most stubborn person I knew.

I paused in my retreat and took a deep breath. He wanted me to admit that I came with Harris, that I was leaving with Harris, that I was choosing Harris. He was daring me. He was daring me to tell him that I didn't want him. With the three of us, every decision was filled with meaning. Everything meant something.

I shook my head. "I'll find Alicia then."

I won't choose.

"Let's just go, Mass." Harris reached for me. I took a step back, out of his reach. His jaw clenched. He didn't like that I wasn't choosing him. "I brought you, it's my obligation to take you home too."

Cam snapped. "Dammit Harris, why are you such an ass?" He practically snarled it.

I could feel my eyes start to water. I didn't want them to fight. I didn't want to be the thing that ruined them. I didn't want to give either of them up. I took in a shaky breath.

"Grow up, Cam. Jesus, what's your problem?"

"You!" Cam yelled. I felt the tears teeter on the edge of my eyes; the bonfire in the distance was just a yellow blob. "You don't deserve her! You don't treat her right. You don't care about her. She's just another thing to you!"

Harris glanced at me. I looked down. I could feel the tears break way and tumble down my cheeks. Harris didn't treat me right, but we all knew that he did care. They both did. That was the problem.

"Stop, Cam. She's crying."

But Cam didn't listen. "And she'll keep crying and crying if you don't make up your mind. If you don't want her, just leave her alone. Stop leading her on like this. Just _stop_ already."

I swiped away the tears, but they kept coming. Harris didn't answer for a moment, but when he did, he said tightly, "Fine, Cam. Take her home. I don't care."

I should have expected the answer, but it still made my chest hurt. I let out a sob and Harris left back toward the fire, yelling at someone for a beer. Cam wrapped his arms around me, whispering words that were supposed to make me feel better. He didn't take joy in winning me tonight. He had to put me back together again. I was work, I knew, yet he still always fought for me. I should have appreciated it.

I did appreciate it—for the night. I let Cam drive me to his house. I let his mom make tutting sounds at me, ask angrily what Harris did this time. I let him lead me to his bed, where he sat next to me and somehow made me laugh and somehow made me forget about things. Cameron was perfect. I loved him.

But we knew that. We also already knew that I loved Harris too, no matter what. No one was surprised to see me early that morning, sleeping on their couch, Harris there next to me.


End file.
